Episode 6

LINNEY: This is "Masterpiece."

MORWENNA: I cannot marry Mr. Whitworth.

Suppose I did ask 'ee to wait.

LINNEY: Previously, on "Poldark."

We have an invitation from Sir Francis Basset.

But I trust we have things in common.

DEMELZA: You refused the offer!

As magistrate, you could have done so much good.

HUGH: How could I foresee that a month ago today, I'd be a free man?

You take full advantage of it.

I intend to.

TOM: I have orders to take 'ee to Truro jail.

What, you mean Drake could hang?

GEORGE: And what, I wonder, would you stake to see him acquitted?

LINNEY: "Poldark," toni ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ (folk dance music playing) (music ends) (applause) (Tholly exclaims) Salute yer new gravedigger!

Would that not be grave robber?

(chuckles) Speak no ill of the livin', especially afore their own flesh and blood!

Yes, sir, daughter of him.

But I hopefully take not after him.

Chance'd be a fine thing!

Do 'ee not dance?

The Lord do consider it sinful.

Oh, well, the Lord do sound a proper spoilsport.

(music playing, dancers laughing) (door closing solidly, keys rattling) We must stiffen security at all our grain stores.

These types would have no compunction about feeding their faces at my expense.

Sir Francis!

Ah, I assume you've heard the news, my elevation to the rank of burgess?

I assume you've not heard the news.

Sir Piers Arthur is dead.

Most distressing.

And the best news I've had all year.

Enough, wife.

You must know the book of prayer by heart now.

Is it not my duty to set an example to your daughters?

You have a duty to your husband, which at present is more pressing.

Go and join your sister.

♪ ♪ I wish Drake and Sam would find contentment.

Have you found it?

In this moment, I have.

I wish it may last.

A hundred years old next week!

You call this Flemish lace?

I look like a desiccated bat.

Mind that pin.

I don't wish to be bled like a stuck pig.

TRELASK: Sorry, ma'am.

AGATHA: Add these names to the list.

George Venables, Laurence Trevemper, Randolph Pentire.

(hesitantly): They're dead, aunt.

Remember?

Let me see.

Who's coming, then?

Trevaunance?

Bodrugan?

Poldarks, that's better!

People I actually like.

(Agatha muttering) I will not have that man in my house.

In fairness, it's Agatha's house, too.

Surely, on her hundredth birthday, we can grant her this one small request.

By hosting a frivolous event which delivers to us no personal benefit?

What benefit should we seek?

At least the Penvenen wedding will provide opportunity.

For what?

For me to further my acquaintance with Lord Falmouth.

Sir Piers Arthur is dead.

Truro lacks an MP.

And the man who instructs the burgesses to vote for his candidate of choice?

Lord Falmouth.

♪ ♪ (birds squawking) (giggling) ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ROSS: The old smith died last month.

It has a cottage, a stable, and some land besides.

And you have some skill in smithying.

You're a quick learner.

And not a farthin' to my name.

It's yours.

Already purchased.

No, brother, 'tis too much.

I like indebtedness no more than you.

You saved my life in France.

The obligation is now discharged.

(chuckles in disbelief) I know what I'd advise.

Get rid of the splints and the swaddling, put him out in the fresh air.

Dr. Enys does not subscribe to old wives' tales.

In this case, he does.

Splints and swaddling have no efficacy, and rickets is exacerbated by lack of light.

Give him plenty of fresh fruit, vegetables, mother's milk, and sunlight.

You will see an improvement within days.

So no tinctures, powders?

Dr. Choake prescribed... Dr. Choake's prescriptions often serve his purse rather than his patients.

So my son will not be deformed?

Follow my instructions and you have every reason to be hopeful.

So your dire predictions were unfounded.

He was born under a black moon.

He may avoid rickets, but he cannot escape his parentage.

I should know-- I've been on this earth for nigh on a century.

So, husband dear, shall we depart for our wedding?

You've been petitioning the Admiralty again?

No, why would I?

I'm considered unfit to resume my duties as yet.

For your sake, I'm sorry.

Don't be.

I daresay I can bear to convalesce here awhile longer.

May I escort you to church, Miss Penvenen?

Finally we may end our pretense of courtship.

Pray do, Dr. Enys.

(chatter) ANNOUNCER: And Lieutenant Rosewall.

Captain Poldark and Mistress Poldark.

Dwight Enys, I never thought I'd see the day.

ANNOUNCER: Mr. and Mrs. Charles Tragoine.

She do bless you daily for bringin' him home.

ANNOUNCER: The Reverend Osborne Whitworth and Mrs. Whitworth.

Morwenna looks pale.

GEORGE: Doubtless the brat is making her nauseous.

Or possibly her husband.

ANNOUNCER: Lord Falmouth and Mrs. Gower.

Congratulations, my dear.

CAROLINE: Thank you.

To wield such power.

GEORGE: And my conduit to Parliament.

Come, my dear, let's not pretend we would not enjoy like status.

ANNOUNCER: Mr. and Mrs. Lilycoat.

My Lord Falmouth.

My lords, ladies and gentlemen, forgive me.

I promise to be brief in my words, but profuse in my thanks.

To Caroline, for making me the happiest of men.

To all of you, for joining our festivities.

But, above all, to one man to whom it is entirely due that Caroline and I stand here today as man and wife.

May I ask you to raise your glasses to the noblest, bravest man I've ever known, Captain Ross Poldark.

ALL: Captain Ross Poldark!

FALMOUTH: If you'll permit me, just a few words.

Saving your blushes, Captain Poldark, I too must express gratitude to the Hero of Quimper for saving my nephew, Lieutenant Hugh Armitage.

I second that.

The Hero of Quimper!

ALL: The Hero of Quimper!

My lord, may I present my wife, Demelza?

Your husband is a reluctant hero, ma'am.

Yet he cannot avoid the fame attaching to his exploit.

DEMELZA: I hope it will not go to his head and induce him to embark on another.

It is a novelty to find a wife so eager to keep her husband at home.

But England may yet have need of him.

Then, sir, I believe neither of us will be lackin'.

You must come and visit us sometime.

Thank you.

You see what I'm up against?

The man is a braggart, his wife is a trull.

This whole event is a waste of time.

You're no admirer of Lord Falmouth?

BASSET: What man of principle could be?

Not content with running half of Cornwall, he must also be lord of Truro.

How can it be that the corporation is treated as a rich man's chattel?

Does it not make you all a laughingstock?

(sighing) It does.

Hence the growing discontent among the burgesses.

And yet my experience in France has taught me that this discontent alone is no solution, unless a worthy alternative is offered.

BASSET: A worthy politician?

DWIGHT: Is there such a thing?

BASSET: Change will not be easy.

Particularly while Falmouth holds sway, nor its advocates popular.

But you believe the right candidate exists?

I've made it my mission to find him.

(music playing) You not dancing, sir?

Or do your prefer observing?

I used to.

But since I was in France, my eyesight has declined.

But it will mend?

So Dr. Enys assures me.

But where is Captain Poldark?

Oh, he's hidin', so he may avoid dancin'.

With you as a partner?

(whispering): Is he mad?

I've often thought so.

Do I hear that you have been gifting land to out-of-work miners?

I recommend it, sir.

Much good can be done with even the smallest effort.

My own exertions have been directed towards a higher goal-- overturning our old corrupt political system.

ROSS: To what end?

BASSET: So that justice and equity may filter down to those in most need.

I applaud your intentions, sir.

Without holding out much hope of their success.

He's not sure which one.

FALMOUTH: He's too good... Morwenna, how are you?

When do you expect?

I do not know.

Mama never spoke of such things.

I did not know what to expect-- what the... obligations of marriage would be.

Is he unkind to you?

He is a monster.

ROSS: Ah, you've escaped.

Excellent.

Can we go home?

You noticed how Falmouth avoided me?

Did he?

Nothing I do seems to gratify him.

I've tried invitations, compliments, small gifts.

Yes.

I do wonder if it's wise to be seen trying so hard.

How else would he even notice me?

Am I so beneath him?

Yet the Bassets pass muster, and their wealth comes from mining and banking.

And is longer standing, so society has grown used to them.

Well, that may now be the better route.

Basset.

The Truro seat is vacant.

Lord Falmouth has always dictated appointments by exerting pressure on the burgesses to vote his way.

Sir Francis believes such corruption must be stopped.

He intends to spearhead a campaign of reform and put up his own candidate to challenge Falmouth's.

And that candidate would be?

We'll see.

We really will be off to hell in a hand-cart if George Warleggan goes to parliament.

If a hand-cart is your preferred mode of transport, it can swiftly be arranged.

(grunting) I was disappointed in Killewarren.

No chintz, no gilding.

But the scale of the establishment puts our humble household to shame.

I think you should have a companion to share the chores and assist you with the children.

I shall write to your sister.

Your mother will be glad to have another daughter off her hands.

And doubtless that sister will come to love me as you do.

Goodnight.

I don't love you.

(mumbling) I love Drake Carne.

(snoring) I love Drake Carne, I love Drake Carne.

I love Drake Carne, I love Drake Carne.

Shall we pretend this is our wedding night?

No pretense needed.

Every night is our wedding night to me.

Lieutenant Armitage was most attentive today.

To whom?

Your wife.

Perhaps overly attentive.

Did you not notice?

I confess I did not.

Perhaps I imagined it.

Quite possibly.

Not every man in Cornwall is besotted with you.

(distant hammering) DRAKE: G'day, sister.

What brings 'ee here?

News of Morwenna.

Good news?

She's with child.

DRAKE: I can only pray the child be a comfort to her.

In my heart, I know I must now let her go.

Yes, brother, you must.

GEORGE: Search the attics, cellars, all storerooms and cupboards.

The item was packed away when I first took up residence here.

It belongs to old mistress Agatha.

Find it.

Yes, sir.

I think he's already showing an improvement.

No doubt your aunt will claim the credit.

But it matters not, long as he is improved.

(Valentine fussing) Did Dwight mention he'd been called to Trenwith?

No, why would he?

The child has rickets.

Valentine.

'Tis said he may end up lame.

Surely, that's no concern of ours.

No, Ross.

I'm away to see Pascoe.

I'll be back before supper.

Yes, Ross.

♪ ♪ (din of a crowded market) (bell tolling, people chatting) PASCOE: Ah!

As requested, I've had prepared the deed of gift for your land.

You should be aware of some news which has just reached me.

The Warleggans and the Bassets have formed an accommodation.

A merger?

Not exactly, but an arrangement with each other's banks whereby they will work together.

I suspect this scheme has less to do with business ambition than political.

Mr. Pascoe.

Sir Francis.

BASSET: Captain Poldark, you vanished from the wedding before I had chance to invite you and your charming wife to dinner.

We seldom stir abroad, sir.

Then I hope you will make this the exception.

Shall we say Saturday?

PASCOE: Your wife will be gratified.

I believe she enjoys high society these days.

She has no spurious fame to contend with.

Whereas I am only too aware it's the sole reason for my sudden popularity.

Take her.

What harm could it do?

♪ ♪ I've missed you, sister!

Rowella!

You're not well.

Yes, quite well.

I've no complaint.

WHITWORTH: I should think not!

Your sister is most blessed amongst women.

ROWELLA: Yes, Osbourne.

In private, you may call me Mr. Whitworth.

In public, you will address me as Vicar.

Yes, Vicar.

The blessed Virgin and the Holy Child.

Oh, brother, it do gladden the heart to see 'ee turn to God again.

Yes, brother.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ Hmm.

I believe this be the item in question.

Yes.

(chuckles) You seem excited.

Is there good news?

There is.

And soon, I hope, there will be better.

Am I permitted to know?

Let us say that if my visit to Tehidy goes well... Tehidy?

Did Sir Francis invite?

He did not.

But I know him to be at home today and we are now on such terms as to render formal invitations unnecessary.

Madame.

The key is to strike while the iron's hot.

The door is ajar.

Sir Francis is open to persuasion.

All he requires is a little push.

Take a week, Georgie.

I shan't be upset if you miss my party.

Thanks for the reminder, ma'am.

We will discuss that very subject when I return.

(sputters) I can think of 100 more useful things I could be doing.

For shame, Ross-- you're becoming a misanthrope!

DWIGHT: I sympathize.

I'm no lover of company these days.

With the exception of my wife's.

Sometimes Ross do make no exception.

Well, if I have my way...

Which you frequently do.

This will be our last excursion for the foreseeable future.

Why, sister, would you agree to marry that man?

To save the life of the man I loved.

And still love?

Till my dying breath.

Tell me of him.

Tell me everything.

BASSET: Now, we have an unexpected addition to our party.

He got wind of your invitation and insisted on joining us.

Who can guess at his motives?

His uncle and I cannot abide each other.

Our ways of doing business are wholly at odds.

But I have a certain fondness for the nephew.

So I trust you'll forgive me for inflicting him upon you.

Armitage!

Are we never to be rid of you?

You'll be sorry you ever saved me.

I regret the venture daily.

CAROLINE: I'm sure Dwight does.

Now he's my prisoner instead of the Republic's.

And from that there can be no release.

If you knew the pains I took to get myself invited today.

Why did you so?

Can you not guess?

(indistinct chatter) (indistinct chatter continues) ROSS: The young general who crushed the counterrevolution in Paris-- I believe we'll be hearing a good deal of him in future.

You mean Bonaparte?

He's now in charge of the French army in Italy.

Cleared the streets of Paris with cannon.

Fired on his own countrymen.

Such a man is to be reckoned with.

And their Directory of Five who deposed the other blood-stained tyrants?

They're criminals in every sense of the word.

My Uncle Falmouth would be relieved to hear you say so.

He speculated that in dining with so prominent a Whig, I'd hear talk of peace and views favorable to the revolution.

BASSET: Then your uncle should know better.

The true Whig is as patriotic as any Tory in the land.

(whispering) Advise him I am engaged and may be some time.

I have taken the liberty of providing some small entertainments.

Shall we adjourn?

(laughter) I shall await his pleasure here.

(chatter, bowling pins clattering) (clattering, laughter) BASSET: Your turn I think.

So navigation, I think you said, at sea?

At sea, yes.

Which is where I presently find myself.

Wholly disorientated.

Shipwrecked.

Lost.

It must seem strange to return to the comfort and safety of home after the horrors of prison.

I know Dwight also struggled.

My struggles are of a different kind.

So different that I dare not even name them.

And you will not ask me to.

'Tis hardly my business.

I wish that were true.

Blooms from the Garden of Eden.

But where lurks Eve?

And where the snake?

I've taken note of your suggestion-- Gifting land to the deserving poor.

And the undeserving poor?

Let us begin by helping those who help themselves.

When do we begin?

Do you believe in equality?

I believe in opportunity.

I believe that industry should be rewarded and the misuse of power punished.

We appear to be of one mind.

Shall you return to the navy?

Once my eyes have mended.

The fault is entirely my own, for scribbling away in semi-darkness.

Letters home?

Sketches, attempts at verse-- it was all that kept me sane.

You were sketching today.

May I show you?

I'm no Leonardo, but you are surely Mona Lisa.

I do not know these people.

Forgive me.

My attempt at a compliment.

Perhaps I should stick to verse.

Especially with such inspiration before me.

No one's ever written me poetry before.

Not even your husband?

(scoffs) Ross has been called many things, but poetic is not one of them.

May I see you again?

And Ross too, of course.

I will ask him when would be convenient.

Let us suppose that the burgesses are sick of being forced to cast their votes at Falmouth's command.

ROSS: Should we also suppose they're sick of the favors they enjoy, business that comes their way in exchange for those votes?

In the coming Truro by-election, many have indicated their willingness to defy Falmouth.

And instead of voting for his candidate, vote for yours?

We both agree change is long overdue with the right man in place.

The right man.

BASSET: I believe that you are the man to lead this revolution.

If elected, you will serve our borough in parliament.

And I'd be expected to vote as you directed.

Since you and I think along similar lines, it can surely be no hardship to vote likewise?

♪ ♪ (clattering) Truly, I believe that if you and I walked into a room, all the men would look at me, but within five minutes they'd all be clustered around you.

I'm not sure that's a compliment.

It is.

Not one I think Ross would appreciate.

If he even noticed.

(pins clattering) (horse whinnies) Back already, Georgie?

I told you we could manage without ye.

Remind me, what is your age, ma'am?

You know fine well I shall be 100 years old on Monday.

When I was last at Sawle church, I had occasion to glance at the parish register.

I could find no record of your baptism in 1695.

Of course, I was not content to leave it there, for baptisms do not always instantly follow births.

So yesterday I had the servants comb the house until they found the old Poldark family bible.

(book drops heavily) And what of it?

Let me read you an entry.

The ink is faded, but I suppose it to be your father's handwriting.

"Born to us this autumn morn, our first child, a daughter, Agatha Mary."

September 14, 1697.

So you see, old crone, on Monday, you will be but 98.

'Tis a lie.

A scabby lie!

(laughing) My dear?

How went the visit to Tehidy?

We will discuss it another time.

Well?

I regret I must decline.

Your reason?

I cannot be another man's puppet.

Not even one I admire, nor whose views are so similar to my own.

You cannot ignore the way the world works.

If you dislike the system, change it from within.

There is sense in what you say.

But?

But the noble impulse which impels a man to enter politics often falls by the wayside.

Power is pursued for its own sake, rather than the good it can do.

Who am I to claim exemption from these failings?

Will you not even try?

I cannot believe I would emerge from this process with my soul intact.

Your soul?

Your stubbornness.

It will be your undoing, Poldark.

(food crunching) (sighs) This shoe does pinch my toes.

See how easy it is to be rid of him?

Shh!

Do not jest about it.

He is my husband, till death do us part.

Amen, sister.

I think it was a mistake to refuse Sir Francis.

I never knew you had ambitions to be a political wife.

Nor do I.

But you, your influence is great.

There's much good you could do.

And is not Sir Francis a goodly man?

Yes.

But he too uses his power for his own ends, and he would use me if I would let him.

(sighs) (bell ringing) (labored breathing) (knocking) Come in, Lucy Pipe, idle girl!

Where's my supper?

(door opens) There will be no supper, old woman.

There will be no party.

I'll have letters sent to all your guests, informing them that you made a mistake, that you are 97, not 99, and a new invitation will be issued in two years' time, If you're still above ground then.

But 'tis all prepared.

Food ordered.

My old topaz ring altered to fit.

Pity.

My birthday's on Monday.

98's a good age.

I've been looking forward to this party for so long.

No one need know I'm not 100.

I'll not live two year more.

Ye know that.

Who'd guess if ye'd said naught?

I'll not cross ye again, George.

Let me have my party.

There will be no party.

Wait.

You do this to me, may you rot in hell.

You and your nasty uncle and your little twisted son, born under a black moon, and warped already.

Little Valentine, the so-called Warleggan heir.

Or is he?

That was no eight-month baby, George.

Early babes be weak and wrinkled-- no hair, no nails.

But that babe was lusty and smooth and strong as a full-term child!

(gasps): So maybe ye didn't wait for the wedding.

Or maybe somebody got there before ye!

♪ ♪ (labored breathing) (labored breathing) ♪ ♪ George?

Are you unwell?

That old woman... ...will have no party.

What do you mean?

Has she given orders to defer it?

Sir Francis Basset's here, sir.

What the devil can he want?

(inhales) (door closes) (door opens) You called to see me today.

I did, sir.

But you were otherwise engaged.

And now I fear the moment has passed.

Not necessarily.

Was there something you wanted to discuss?

Change.

Yes?

That is what you seek.

But it's not easy to achieve, nor its advocates popular.

Go on.

The right man would not need to be popular.

He would only need to be capable.

Of achieving the task in hand.

By whatever means necessary.

My party, my birthday, my birthday.

(muttering unintelligibly) Aunt?

My party... What has happened?

My party, my party.

George won't allow my party.

Be calm, dearest aunt.

Tormented me, he did.

Took my hope, took my home.

Do not exert yourself.

Yet I should not have said what I did.

Elizabeth will never forgive me.

Forgive you?

I should not have told him.

Told him what?

Aunt?

Told him what?

Aunt?

Told him what?

(baby crying) (baby crying) Well, ma'am, I hope we can count on your support in our newest venture.

A candidate to challenge Lord Falmouth in the coming by-election has been found.

Is this true?

It is a fine thing for young Valentine to have an MP as a father.

Indeed.

Forgive me.

My great aunt is dead.

BASSET: My sincere condolences.

I will detain you no longer.

I trust, when you have grieved for the departed, that there will be time for celebration.

(waves crashing) DEMELZA: ♪ Every button cost a crown ♪ ♪ Harvey Darvey turn around ♪ ♪ Heel to heel and toe to toe, turn around and off we go.

♪ Sir Francis is right-- you are stubborn.

Pragmatic.

Pigheaded.

Would you prefer naive?

Or sentimental?

Sometimes, Ross, yes, I would!

This just come from Trenwith.

DEMELZA: What is it?

Aunt Agatha's dead.

Ross!

I should have been there.

PRUDIE: Poor ol' cooter.

Think of her on her deathbed with no Poldark kin to ease her departin'.

(child fussing) Shh... Prudie... She be the last of the Trenwith Poldarks.

There's still Geoffrey Charles.

Doubtless George'll find a way to part him from his inheritance.

Judas.

There was more to George's note than the news of her death.

Funeral arrangements?

Not a word.

What, then?

"I hope you and Demelza will rejoice in the news "that I have been selected by Sir Francis Basset "to be the candidate to oppose Lord Falmouth's in the Truro by-election."

Well, there it is.

Yes, and you could've prevented it.

No, I couldn't.

Will you never learn?

How long do you think you can do as you please, plough your own furrow, regardless of anyone else, or I?

Demelza... Not once have you asked my advice or harkened to my opinion, not once.

What do you want, Demelza?

A man who'll lie down, roll over, sit up and beg for you?

Well, if so, you've married the wrong man.

'Twould appear so.

Perhaps you should look elsewhere for a pet.

Perhaps I should.

(quietly): Perhaps I won't have to look too far.

♪ ♪ (men grunt) Is that it?

No family?

No ceremony?

'Twas ordered a quick, secret buryin'.

'Tis all I could do to get word to thee.

She was a Poldark, and my most beloved aunt.

George will pay for this.

Nay, 'tis my task.

She was a great lady and a rare spirit.

It's the least I can do to honor her.

♪ ♪ LINNEY: Next time on "Masterpiece..." LORD FALMOUTH: Bassett is the new order.

I am the old-- he seeks to overthrow me.

And?

I would like you to help me prevent him.

ELIZABETH: Since Aunt Agatha's death, there's scarce been two words between us.

Elizabeth is not a Poldark.

She was, and so is her son.

ANNOUNCER: "Poldark," next time on "Masterpiece."

♪ ♪ LINNEY: Go to our website.

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